


Dinner with Julius

by TheCrazyGeek



Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dinner, First Date, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julius invites Malcolm out for dinner a lot. One time, Malcolm accepted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner with Julius

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the kink meme: http://ttoi-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/726.html?thread=24534#t24534

Julius had lost count of the number of times he’d extended a dinner invitation to Malcolm. It was now almost part of his weekly routine; get into the office on a Friday morning, check the newspapers, drink a cup of tea (Assam for preference), ask Malcolm Tucker out for dinner, get told to fuck off, carry on sorting his emails.  
  
He’d refused to give up though. Despite how utterly infuriating Malcolm could be, he was by far the most intelligent man around and Julius firmly believed that if he could just get the man away from politics for a few hours he’d see another side of the swearing beast of Whitehall.  
  
So when Malcolm accepted, Julius had to do a literal double-take before stammering (oh the shame, where had his vocal skills gone?) out a time and place. It was expensive, but very off the beaten track as it were. Julius did not want somewhere filled with celebrities and press hounds, the idea was to relax Malcolm, not to put him in a pit with his usual victims.  
  
He’d been waiting only a minute before Malcolm showed up, attired in one of his ubiquitous suits, and been escorted over to the table by a member of the waitstaff. He smiled at Malcolm and asked the lovely brunette lass who was waiting on them if she could give them a few minutes before ordering.  
  
”No’ bad eh baldy? Looks a bit like a fuckin’ library but it’s quiet and away from all the shitheads. Good find your Lordship”  
  
After a fairly heated argument regarding drink (“look, I don’t fucking care about vintage unless we’re talking about whiskey. Wine is fucking wine, just get me whatever I can drink without having tae talk like fucking Oz Clarke okay?” - Malcolm) they’d settled down to read over the menu while making a start on the bottle.  
  
They’d nearly finished the first bottle when the meal was served (“don’t ye order for me. I can fuckin’ read” - Malcolm again) and, remarkably, Malcolm tore into it like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.  
  
As the time wore on, Julius found that Malcolm was actually a very good dinner companion, if a tad fond of the baroque swear word or three. They kept the conversation off politics and onto menial topics like what they had dreamed of being when children (Julius - fighter pilot, Malcolm - secret agent) and their favourite music, films and art.  
  
Malcolm turned out to have an extraordinary appreciation for portraiture which quite surprised Julius into suggesting they both go to the National Portrait Gallery sometime.  
  
“Are ye asking me out on a date here?” Malcolm asked with a perfectly straight face.  
  
Julius would later blame the two bottles of wine they’d managed to devour for his immediate reply; “I do believe I am. So what would your answer be?”  
  
Malcolm cocked his head slightly and took a long breath. “I’d say what took ye so fuckin’ long?”  
  
—————  
  
Buoyed by the giddy delight of Malcolm agreeing to a date with him, and probably quite a bit of wine, Julius tried to take Malcolm’s hand as they walked down the deserted roads. To his surprise, Malcolm let him do it but then used the same hand to drag them both into a short alley between two pubs.  
  
”Jul’us, you best not be fuckin’ joking here else I will personally rip your damn cock off and sell it as hot dog in a bun to an American tourist.”  
  
Without waiting for a reply, the irate Scotsman pressed hard against Julius and kissed his neck. “I mean, I’m no’ young, I know there are pictures of turds on th’ Thames that hae more sexappeal than me”.  
  
Julius rolled his eyes. “Malcolm Tucker, that is utterly untrue and you do know this.”  
  
He caressed a gentle hand over the other man’s chest, feeling the hard bone and hot skin. “You flirt with everyone when you are not yelling foul mouthed rants and I refuse to believe that an intelligent man like yourself doesn’t notice that a lot of people actually want you.”  
  
“Jesus, keep feedin’ mai ego and ill never get my fucking head through my own front door. Speaking of which, I got some decent whisky back at mine, lets go fucking demolish it”  
  
————

  
(An hour later at Malcolm’s place)  
  
”I’m going fuckin’ insane” Malcolm muttered.  
  
”Now why would you say that?” Julius replied.  
  
”Because I keep thinkin’ - Jesus fuck - that there is a baldy git called Julius Nicholson doing - ahh hell - fucking obscene things tae me on my sofa”  
  
”Well, quite” Julius licked a long stripe up the rigid length of Malcolm’s cock, “you’re quite obviously insane and indeed, as you say, on your sofa.” Julius grasped Malcolm’s cock firmly and gave it a strong hard stroke, smiling at the howl of pleasure that the man gave.  
  
"What would you say to us going and being insane on your bed then?"


End file.
